


The Void

by kierens_bdff



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5x10, 5x10 alternate, Asshole Theo, Dread Doctors - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Episode: s05e10 Status Asthmaticus, F/M, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Manipulative Theo, PTSD Stiles, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, theo is a little turd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:17:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5563189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kierens_bdff/pseuds/kierens_bdff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theo carries out his plan, he may have the chimera pack but he still wants what he came for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rage

“I don’t think Scott wants to talk to you right now.” Theo’s words cut through the air and Stiles felt himself go tense. That hurt, especially coming from someone who had known Scott for such a short amount of time in contrast to himself.

“Yeah, thanks, I’m aware of that.” He quickly turned around, ready to get into Theo’s car. “It doesn’t matter, he needs to know about this.” Parrish running off to steal another body was a little more important than a little dispute.

“Stiles…” Theo began again, a hint of anger showing in his voice this time. Stiles once again lowered his hand from the car door. “Scott doesn’t want to talk to you.” Theo stood tall, staring at Stiles, it almost seemed like he was threatening him. Angered by this, Stiles walked forwards slowly, not breaking eye contact with the werewolf, testing his boundaries. “But I think your Dad does.” Theo added as he held up Stiles’ key card.

Stiles felt himself visibly pale and his heart rate increase, now it was his turn to be angry.

Theo turned away from Stiles, beginning to walk away to the other side of his car, Stiles followed behind, staring daggers into the back of Theo’s head. “Your Dad was looking for you, Stiles. He found me instead.” He remarked, a smile playing on his lips as he looked at the key card, a picture of Stiles smiling in the corner.

“Where is he?”

 Theo looked over his shoulder then, ignoring Stiles’ question. “I covered for you.” He continued, holding Stiles’ card up once again. “This was taken care of. If Melissa didn’t find it at the hospital… I guess even the son of a _cop_ can make mistakes”

 None of what Theo had said was even taken in by Stiles who persisted with his questions, his only concern being his Dad. He was close to Theo now, close enough to punch him in his smug face. “Did you hurt him?”

Theo sighed. “I told you, I covered for you. Your Dad’s fine, should be back at the station by now.” Stiles visibly relaxed and stopped fidgeting on his feet so much, he was still moving around a little, a side effect from not taking his medication. He had forgotten about some of his general needs after everything that had been happening.

After the small interruption, Theo continued on with his story. “I never lied about why I came to Beacon Hills. I'm here for a pack.” Stiles was confused, unsure of what to say so he just let Theo continue, waited for everything to make sense.  “I came for the werecoyote. The one whose first instinct is to kill.” Theo began to explain his intentions, circling around Stiles, making him feel trapped and slightly on edge.  “I came for the Banshee, the girl surrounded by death.” Stiles had began to trace Theo’s footsteps, circling around, not wanting his back to be to the werewolf. “I came for the dark Kitsune, the Beta with anger issues... I came for Void Stiles.” Stiles’ heartbeat faltered, this guy was insane. Sure, Lydia was a banshee and Liam was a Beta and he _did_ have anger issues, but Stiles? Stiles was not void.

 “That's the pack I want. Unfortunately it doesn’t include Scott.” All thoughts of the nogitsune got pushed to the side then. He suddenly felt rage, rage towards Theo. It was his fault that he and Scott had fallen out; he had been the one to tell him in the first place. How else would Scott have the wrench?

“Your heartbeat's rising, Stiles. It's not because you're afraid. Nogitsune is gone, but you've still got more blood on your hands than any of us.”

Theo had hit one of Stiles’ soft spots. He normally used his witty talents for sarcastic remarks but this time it all came out wrong, a threat. “I’m about to get more.” He punched Theo then, right in the face, like he had wanted to for a long time. But rather than making him feel better like he had thought it would have, it actually did the the opposite, and Theo laughing in his face didn’t exactly calm him down.

“There he is!” Theo exclaimed, much to Stiles’ annoyance. “That’s void Stiles! It felt good didn’t it?” As irritating as Theo was, he was right. _It did feel good._

He punched again, ignoring the pain shooting up his wrist. This time Theo fell to the floor, groaning at the impact of Stiles’ fist on his face. Stiles had actually knocked him down? He knocked down a werewolf? Perhaps he wasn’t as weak as he had thought, despite the fact that he was just a human.

He stood over Theo then, just daring him to continue talking. The teenager spat blood.”We won’t tell Scott. ‘Cause you can’t lose your best friend right?” Theo said rather maliciously. “Even though we both know, you never needed him.” Stiles wasn’t sure what Theo was implying, but his anger had just about hit its peak.

In one swift motion Stile’s had lunged over Theo and pinned him to the ground, pressing his head into the gravel as he did so. Theo leaned upwards against the pressure of Stiles’ grasp, closer to Stiles’ face as if he was going to whisper something. Stiles’ hold on him loosened, already feeling tired and his anger slowly diminishing. “You hate me now but you’ll get it eventually.”

Stiles frowned at that, why did Theo have to be so vague? He never knew what he was talking about. He would have asked but the sound of something whipping through the air interrupted him, there was a sharp pain in his back but it almost immediately left, along with all other sensation in his body.

He lost his grip on Theo who just smirked as he watched Stiles fall to the floor, not even able to move his arms out in front of him to lessen the impact of his face on the ground. He just lay there then, panic rising in his chest as he realized what had happened.

He was pretty much face down in the ground but Theo turned him over so he could see; the act only confirmed his suspicions. Tracy was stood next to Theo, her lizard-like tail still poised after attacking and paralyzing him with kanima venom.


	2. Paralyzed

Stiles could feel the cut on his back beginning to itch, great. He had an itch and he couldn’t itch it because he was freaking paralyzed.

Theo was crouched over him, holding his hands behind his back and binding his wrists in rope. Stiles’ would have wriggled and put up more of a fight if only he could MOVE.

It was then that he realized he hadn’t thought through the full extent of the situation, tying up normally meant kidnapping, and kidnapping never ends well for the hostage. He was probably going to end up dead in a ditch somewhere. Speaking of which, why was Theo kidnapping Stiles? He said he wanted a pack, but Stiles was just the human, why didn’t he go after someone more powerful? Someone like Liam.

Thankfully, Theo had a truck; if he had a car then he probably would have put Stiles in the boot. Instead he resorted to dragging him into the back and laying him across the back seats. Sure, Stile’s couldn’t move but he could still send every threat and curse word he could think of flying towards Theo who was unaffected by the teen’s attempts at even pissing him off.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Theo taunted as he shoved some sort of rag into Stiles’ mouth, duct taping it over so he couldn’t spit it out. Stiles’ choked on the material, feeling his eyes water. The material was rough and dried his mouth out, his tongue quickly began to feel like sand paper. “You talk an awful lot Stiles. Maybe I’ll have to do something about that.”

_What? What the hell did Theo think he was implying?_ Stiles thought to himself, the duct tape over his mouth temporarily forgotten.

Once Theo was in the driver’s seat, and Tracy was god knows where, the truck started. Stiles had no idea where they were going. He was pretty sure that he must have dozed off, tired from beating up Theo and the stress of being kidnapped, because next thing he knew he was woken up by lights flashing through the truck’s window.

* * *

 

Stiles found that if he tried hard enough he could move a bit now, he was slow but it was something. He craned his neck, trying to turn himself over so he could see what was causing the red and blue to flash in his eyes. Relief washed over him when he realized what the lights belonged to. A cop car, more importantly his Dad’s cop car. He was saved.

Scott must have realized there was something odd going on with this guy, or the pack had noticed his absence both from the station and his house. Relief washed over him before threatening to choke him when he saw Theo stood outside the car, seemingly having a casual discussion with his Dad. He tried really hard to listen to the conversation, only catching a muffled “Sorry, I haven’t seen him.”

His Dad was looking for him. His Dad who wanted to talk to him about murdering someone. Nonetheless, it was still an improvement to the situation he was currently in.

His hand, shaking at the effort grabbed the car seat so he could lift himself up into a sitting position; he was fighting off the kanima venom with all of his might. He felt the pain in his shoulder then, the bite that had been inflicted by Donovan. It had had a week to heal but didn’t seem to be doing so good, he must have reopened the wound somehow. Still, he persisted, moved towards the truck’s window and into his Dad’s field of vision.

And thank fuck, the effort was worth it because his Dad looked away from Theo and towards his son. Stiles sat there for a moment, waiting for his father to react, to pull a gun on Theo, but no such thing happened. The eye contact with his Dad only lasted a few seconds before he shuffled away back to the police car. No. _No._  And then something clicked in Stiles mind.

Theo’s truck had blacked out windows, his Dad didn’t see him, didn’t know that Theo had kidnapped him. The pack certainly weren’t going to notice his absence; it was foolish of him to even think that, he had seen the way Scott had looked at him. Like he was a killer. Like he was the nogitsune.

He wanted to scream then, to kick at the window, anything that would get his Dad’s attention. But the cloth in his mouth forced the scream back down into his lungs, leaving him gasping for air, and no matter how much he tried he couldn’t move his legs let alone kick anything.

His Dad drove away and Theo let himself back into the truck, turning in his seat so Stiles could see that _stupid_ smirk of his. “That was a close call, huh Stiles?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, this isn't going to be following the story of 5x10 at all anymore, it's all going to be my own plot from now on. And I know, this is a REALLY short chapter but I'm just getting used to writing again, I haven't written anything other than essays in a while so this is a bit of a change. Also, sorry if you're not a fan of oxford commas but I NEED them, it just makes more sense to me. 
> 
> Just like before, an update should be coming soon. Have a good New Year everyone!


	3. Background Noise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, the italic writing is Stiles' thinking, I thought it would be easier to tell the difference between the narration and the thinking if I put them in different styles. I think I'm going to make Stiles' thought process a large part of the story telling as this story is mainly based around Stiles' character.

They weren’t driving for too long, they couldn’t have left Beacon Hills. Stiles had stayed conscious this time to make sure. He was completely capable of moving now, the kanima venom had worn off but the ropes around his wrists and ankles still restrained him. He didn’t want Theo to talk to him; the guy made him feel sick to his stomach due to his expert deception, even Stiles was beginning to think he was one of the good guys.

His mind wondered to Scott. Theo had mentioned him earlier, had said that he didn’t need him for his ‘pack’ or something. Stiles could only imagine what he had done to his friend. Could Scott be dead?

The truck came to a stop; Stiles had sat himself up and had been leaning into the window, his cheek now red from the pressure. He watched carefully as Theo got out and walked towards the side of the car Stiles was sat on. Stiles instinctively moved to the other side, wriggling backwards as Theo opened the door.

“Do you really have to be like this?” Theo sighed, rolling his eyes as he leaned into the truck, grabbing Stiles’ ankle and dragging him back towards him. He then got a firm grip on his arm as he untied the restraints on his ankles, yanking him to his feet and walking him towards a grassy verge, they were just outside the forest. Stiles eyes lit up, he could run for cover into the forest, there would be plenty of places to hide. Granted, Theo would find him in a matter of minutes if Stiles could get away in the first place, but he wouldn’t need much time to make a phone call. Call his Dad, tell him Theo had kidnapped him. His Dad could then send out an APB on Theo and find him, or Scott could find him by scent. If he was alive, that is. He could feel the weight of his phone in his back pocket and wondered how he would reach it when his hands were tied.

Theo was only holding Stiles with one arm, his other busy peeling back the grass. _What is he doing?_ Stiles thought to himself as the strip of grass folded over to reveal slants of wood, placed over a hole. _A hole leading to where? A tunnel? An underground lair? Or is this just the hole where Theo’s going to dump my body?_

That was enough for him to try and make an escape, but he had greatly underestimated Theo’s grip on his arm. Stiles had tried to yank his arm out of Theo’s death grip but Theo’s claws had protruded from his fingertips, digging into the flesh of his bicep.

A muffled yelp of pain came from behind the rag in Stiles’ mouth but Theo did not retract his claws, preventing Stiles from having any other wise ideas as that would involve ripping his arm out from under the claws.

With his free hand, Theo shifted the wood off of the hole, revealing a ladder delving into the depths of what must have been a series of tunnels. “You first, Stilinski.” Theo ordered, shoving the teenager towards the hole before untying his wrists, all while keeping a tight hold on him.

Stiles figured that since Theo trusted him to climb down the ladder on his own, there wouldn’t be much of a point of trying to run for it again. The werewolf would make it down the ladder in a matter of seconds and catch him at a dead end or outrun him.

He clenched his fist, assessing the pain that his arm was in before climbing down the ladder, feeling the warm trail of blood making its way down his arm.

He took a step away once he had reached the bottom, a shiver creeping up his spine when he realized where the ladder had taken him. They were in the tunnels under Oak Creek, under Eichen House. He hadn’t been here himself but he knew it was where the nogitsune had taken Lydia once they had been separated.

Dust flew into the air and around Theo’s shoes when he jumped down, the sound of his feet hitting the floor echoed around the place. Stiles turned away from the direction they’d come from, there were stone walls lined with pipes as far as the eye could see, the floor was damp and the place was only lit by a ceiling light at each corner.

He was startled when he felt Theo’s hand on his shoulder; it wasn’t rough like before but lay softly there, probably because he knew that Stiles had nowhere to run. “Sorry about your arm by the way.” His hand dropped from Stiles’ shoulder. “But you gave me no choice.”

Theo walked ahead of him then, Stiles hesitated but knew that he should follow. He took the chance to take the duct tape off of his mouth now that his hands were free and spat the rag onto the floor, licking his dry and cracked lips.

“What did you think I was gonna do? Just _let_ you kidnap me?” His voice came out hoarser than expected. He cleared his throat.

“I thought you were clever enough to not make a break for it.” Theo retorted, continuing to walk ahead, knowing that Stiles was following due to his chimera super hearing.

_That was pretty stupid._ “Would you mind telling me where we’re going? And _why?”_ Stiles changed the subject, picking up his speed a little to keep up with Theo’s long strides.

Theo didn’t respond, just carried on walking towards wherever the hell they were going. The narrow walls began to take their toll on Stiles; he felt trapped and was finding it increasingly hard to breathe. “Your heart’s beating really fast.”

Stiles took a breath of disbelief “Yeah, I wonder why that would be!” He sped up more, almost walking alongside his captor. “You know, maybe it’s the fact that my best friend could be dead. Or that you’ve kidnapped me. Or because my Dad’s probably freaking out. Or that we’re in these creepy freaking tunnels!” He manged to voice the majority of his fears in one breath, feeling much better now he’d raised his voice and let some of his emotions slip through his wall of sarcasm.

Theo stopped then, placing both of his hands on each of Stiles shoulders and staring him in the eye. “If Scott’s as annoyingly resilient as we both know he is then he’s not dead.” Keeping the eye contact he reached down and pulled something out of his own pocket. He held Stiles’ phone up so he could see it “I can text your Dad and tell him not to worry.”

_When the hell did he get a hold of my phone? I’ll add pickpocketer to the list of Theo’s felonies._

They carried on walking then, turning a few more corners before coming to a set of stone steps and an old, rusting door which Theo opened and stepped inside as if it were his own home. He held the door for Stiles who reluctantly entered, not wanting anymore claws in his arm.

The place was full of metal shelving, full of books and jars. _Where are we?_ He noticed three figures then, standing at the end of the shelving. Stiles tilted his head, trying to get a better look at the people who had coincidentally picked to stand in the darkest spot in the room.

Theo stood beside Stiles, talking to the figures. “Sorry about the timing.” _What is going on? Have I been let in on Theo’s evil plans?_

A crackle filled the air, then what sounded like someone speaking but Stiles couldn’t make out what they were saying. He didn’t like this place; it smelt of chemicals and metal. Blood? Then something really strange happened, one of the figures flickered.

Wide eyed, he grabbed some of the metal shelving for support. The Dread Doctors. Noticing that Stiles heartbeat had picked up, Theo turned to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t like before when he was trying to comfort Stiles. Something felt off this time.

“Stiles?” Theo’s voice only sounded like background noise to Stiles. _Why am I here? Do they want to bring me into this? Theo’s clearly some sort of accomplice of theirs .Do they want me as an accomplice? Someone to get close to Scott’s pack. No. Too predictable._

The feeling of metal slamming against his head interrupted Stiles’ thoughts, Theo’s hand had tightened around his shoulder and he had smacked the teenagers head into the metal shelving, almost knocking him unconscious.

His vision blurry, he fell to his hands and knees, watching the Dread Doctors advance towards him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update isn't going to be as quick as the last one since it is New Years and I have assignments to do. I'm hoping to have one up before next week though, and hopefully it will be a longer chapter but I can't make any promises. Feel free to tell me what you think! :)


	4. Restraints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Blood and torture.

 

Stiles struggled against their grasp, but to no avail. They had dragged him out from the back room and into another; it was empty except for the operating table in the centre, a table with medical equipment laid out next to it. Stiles had never felt more scared in his life.

The doctors threw him onto the metal operating table, pinning down each of his limbs. Stiles quickly noticed the leather straps that would hold him down and continued his struggle, trying to wriggle out of their hold.

His left arm was down, the strap firmly over it. He twisted his hand and pulled at it but the leather was too strong. Then, in sheer luck, one of the doctors let his right hand slip. Stiles hesitated for a second before realizing he now had a fighting chance to get out. His arm swung, hitting the side of the surgeons face, he felt a crack.

The surgeon’s face gear served well as protection, not harming the doctor but Stiles’ hand was surely broken somewhere.

He whimpered then, clenching his hand into a fist and hissing in pain. Knowing that Stiles’ hand was injured, the surgeon held him by the wrist this time and carefully strapped it down. _So they don’t want to hurt me._ His legs were strapped down next. _Then what do they want?_

All three of the doctors left the room then, Stiles was hoping he’d be left alone for a minute to give him time to think of a plan but Theo walked into the room. _Great._

“You’re probably confused, but you’ll understand soon enough, Stiles.” Theo smiled as he walked around the operating table.

“What do you want?” Stiles had intended for his voice to sound pissed off and angry but it came out broken and scared instead.

Theo leaned into Stiles ear, he could feel his breath as he spoke “I want you.” A shiver went down Stiles’ spine and Theo stepped back, now pacing around the room. “I thought I wanted Scott’s whole pack, but I have my own now. Tracy, Corey, Josh, Hayden. I know now that I can’t have Scott’s pack, he’s far too protective over them. So I came up with a plan to separate you all, no one suspected a thing. Except for you.”

His pacing had stopped and he stood looking at Stiles now “You knew that there was something wrong but no one believed you.” He laughed “In fact, Scott believed me over you!” Stiles swallowed, not wanting to get angry, that had already got him into enough trouble today. “The pack had pretty much disowned you so I thought none of them would notice if you went missing. It’s a shame really; you were the smartest and the most loyal one of them all.” The doctors had returned by now, a tray of new medical equipment at hand. “You see, even if I didn’t have the others, I still had to have you.”

_Have me? I’m not yours, asshole._

Despite the uncomfortable position he was in, Stiles lifted his head, trying to get a glimpse of what was on the tray. He caught sight of a wooden box before his neck gave in. “You’re normally a lot more talkative.”

He had been trying to figure out what was going on while Theo was talking. Because God, he loved to tell Stiles about his evil plans. The guy wouldn’t shut up.

“Maybe I would be if you didn’t slam my head into a metal shelf” _Not a good time for sarcasm Stiles. There are sharp and pointy objects in this room. One’s that Theo would probably love to cut into you with._ He tried not to think about the pain that was likely to come.

“Always hiding how you really feel with sarcasm, aren’t you Stiles?”

“Yep.”

Theo replied with a simple smile before he walked away, leaving Stiles under the care of the dread doctors.

They stood around the tray then, their backs to Stiles, blocking his view of whatever torture devices they had picked out for him.

Once they had what they needed they gathered around him, one of them with a pair of tweezers at hand. _Tweezers? What do they expect to do with those? Pluck my eyebrows?_

They reached into the wooden box that Stiles had seen before, it looked familiar. Something small was pulled out of it and placed in the tweezers. Stiles swore that, whatever it was, it was moving.

He had been slow to realize what it was, perhaps he had concussion, but he was struggling again now, panic rising in his chest. “No, no, don’t!”

The doctors didn’t reply to him, only stared as one of them held the fly between the tweezers.

Theo’s voice rang through Stiles’ head _“I came for void stiles”_ He had no idea how they had got a hold of it. Isaac had trapped the nogitsune fly in the nematon box but he didn’t know what they had then done with the box. How Theo or the dread doctors had knew, he did not know.

The surgeon moved the fly towards his face then. “open” another instructed.

_Do they expect me to swallow the damn thing?_

Since he had not done as they asked, one of the doctors grabbed Stiles’ jaw and squeezed, trying to force his jaw open but the teenager would not give up.

Their hand crushed the joints of Stiles jaw, forcing his mouth open. The surgeon released the fly into his mouth then, covering it with his hand so he couldn’t spit the thing right back out.

Stiles could feel it crawl on the roof of his mouth before making a disappearance down his throat, his skin crawled and he choked, trying to bring the fly back up but the surgeons hand stopped it from making a reappearance in his bile.

Once it was down, the surgeon released Stiles from his grip.

He felt a prick in his arm and his head lolled off to the side. Had they given him a sedative? He hadn’t realized before but his breathing had picked up quite rapidly, and whatever they had given him had slowed it right down.

The fly wasn’t affecting him yet, he didn’t know how long it would take, or if it would work. He just knew that the doctors were nowhere near done with him, tweezers and a nogitsune fly had not been the only thing they had laid out on the table.

* * *

 

_Come on wake up._

**_Open your eyes._ **

Stiles had been awake for a while now; it had just taken him a while to manage to open his eyes. And even when he did, he couldn’t move. His head was still tilted to the side in the position he has fallen asleep in and he was staring at a blank plaster wall.

Stiles had had sleep paralysis before but not to this extreme. He could sense people moving around him and wondered what was happening.

_Scott?_

_No._

His memory of the previous day was slowly coming back to him.

_Not Scott, Theo._

He remembered Theo kidnapping him, and his Dad, and then going down into the tunnels. There was a sharp pain in his right hand when it twitched on its own. He’d punched someone.

_The dread doctors._

_The nogitsune._

He would have bolted upright then if it weren’t for the restraints holding him down. Instead his body jerked upwards and he was stopped at the shoulders, rather painfully. How long had he been sleeping? What had happened when he was sleeping?

His arms were sore, so he had had a lot of needles in his arm. The thought of the doctors further experimenting on him while he was asleep made him feel sick to his stomach.

_How long have I been here? Will anyone be looking for me?_

**_No._ **

Theo had made it clear to Stiles that no one would find him, much less look for him.

_I’m going to die here._

“Stiles.” A voice called out and the boy closed his eyes in return, slowing his breathing, trying to appear asleep. “I know you’re awake.”

Something sharp pierced his chest then and he couldn’t help but let his eyes open from the sudden pain. Theo was stood over him, his claws extended but now by his side, Stiles’ blood visible on them.

“You haven’t let the nogitsune in yet.” It wasn’t a question but more a statement.

“I’m not planning on it.”

Theo clenched his fists but stopped himself from injuring the boy any further. “You know it won’t be like before. The doctors altered the fly, it’s not as powerful.”

_Bullshit._

“You really think I’m stupid enough to unleash a real nogitsune? No. You’ll have full control over it; you won’t do anything you don’t want to this time around.” Theo tried to assure him.

“Why should I trust you? After everything that’s happened.”

“Because if it weren’t for me then you’d be alone. You really think that Scott will let you back into his pack after what you’ve done?”

**_He’s right, you know?_ **

“I’m giving you an opportunity here Stiles, to be part of my pack. I know that Donovan wasn’t your fault, you killed him out of self-defence.”

_He’s right, I did._

“All you have to do is let it in.”

Stiles bit his lips, something he had been doing a lot lately.

**_You won’t have to worry about anything anymore. Remember what it was like before? You were confident. Powerful._ **

Stiles’ thoughts were out of control, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find peace in his own mind.

_Yeah, and remember what all of that power did? People died._

**_…And?_ **

He opened his eyes. “No.”

Theo circled the operating table then. “I guess I could always make you let it in.”

Stiles stomach dropped. _He’s insane. He’s going to kill me._

Stiles’ breathing hitched in his throat as Theo slowly dragged a claw down his forearm, he felt it draw blood. “Theo, stop.” He winced at the pain.

The claw stopped and moved away from his arm and to the strap that was holding it down. Once it was no longer restraining Stiles, he tilted the boy sideways, pulling his shirt down to reveal his shoulder.

“What are you d-!” Stiles’ question was cut off as one of Theo’s claws dug into the bite on his shoulder which he has received from Donovan. He didn’t want to scream, to give Theo that satisfaction but the pressure on his shoulder intensified and he let a cry of pain slip out.

**_If you let it in then this will all stop._ **

Theo released Stiles’ shoulder from his death grip, this time picking up a scalpel from a metal tray that the doctors had left behind.

Stiles’ eyes widened at the sight of the object and his hand flew up to grab Theo’s wrist, to stop him from continuing. “Theo, don’t!”

The werewolf raised an eyebrow at the boy before he yanked his wrist from his hold and grabbed his own, pinning it down on the edge of the operating table.

The metal corner of it dug into Stiles’ skin and he tried to pull himself from the werewolves grasp.

Theo held the scalpel in his other hand now; his original hand was preoccupied with holding Stiles’ arm down. He made eye contact with Stiles, smiling at him in a way that turned malicious as his eyes lowered back down to his arm, he started his handiwork.

Stiles had screamed the whole time that Theo had carved into his arm, taking his time on it and wiping the blood away when necessary.

This seemed to continue until Stiles was shaking, pale and feeling sick from pain. Theo put the scalpel back down on the tray and lifted Stiles’ arm so he could see what he had done to him

Theo had written something on his arm.

It took him a while to read the crimson etchings as the wounds continued to bleed and made it unclear as to where the cuts had been made, but once he did he felt as if he had been winded. Stiles looked at his arm and the word ‘murderer’ stared back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, this took a lot longer than expected and updates will be slower now considering the holidays were over last week and I'll have school work to do. On the upside this chapter is a lot longer than the others!


	5. Anguish

 

Many wounds later, Theo released Stiles from all of his restraints and took on a different technique.

Stiles was weak and could hardly stay standing but he was cornered by Theo who was slowly walking towards him. He put his back to the wall and he didn’t dare take his eyes off of the werewolf.

“You know I don’t want to do any of this to you Stiles. You brought this upon yourself, if you’d just do as I ask then none of this would be happening.”

Stiles looked back at him, his eyes were distant and hollow looking. The result of the few days of torture he had been through. But there was still that look of fear in his eyes, like a startled deer.

He hadn’t talked the whole day. Sure, he still screamed but never replied to anything Theo said, which was unusual for him. Theo was actually beginning to miss his sarcastic remarks. He was telling the truth, he never really wanted to hurt Stiles like this but the boy had refused to let the nogitsune in and this was the only way he would be able to get him to. It had been days since the doctors forced the fly down his throat and yet he still refused.

Maybe it was because he was afraid he would hurt his friends again. Despite the fact that they had pretty much turned on him, it only took one lie from Theo for them to lose their trust in Stiles. They didn’t deserve his loyalty.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures I guess.” Theo shrugged, his eyes glowing their bright yellow as he kicked Stiles in the stomach.

The force made him hit the wall behind him and he would have immediately fallen to the floor if Theo wasn’t holding him up by one of his shoulders. He kicked him again, this time Stiles cried out but he still said nothing.

Then, in a fit of rage he kicked the boy over and over, only stopping when a sob raked through his body. This time Theo let him sink to the floor, deciding that that was enough for now.

Stiles lay on his side, one arm clutching his ribs. _At least one of them is broken._

He tasted blood in his mouth and tried to breathe, only to let out another sob. He managed to sit upright then as he held his head, trying to go through his breathing exercises.

_My Dad’s never going to find me. Not that I’d want him to see me like this. They don’t care anyway. They all know that I murdered Donovan._

He chewed on his fingers, a nervous habit.

_I’m going to die down here. No. I can’t keep this up much longer. I can’t keep it out._

His heart was racing by now and tears were streaming down his face but he didn’t seem to notice them, each rushed breath sent a blow of pain through his ribs which only made his breathing faster.

Theo had gone to the back room but had heard Stiles’ heart rate and rushed back over by now. His presence only made Stiles’ condition worse and the boy tried to push him away with weak arms.

Stiles’ eyes were distant which lead Theo to wonder what was going through his mind.He then slumped to the floor, the same vacant expression in his eyes.

“Stiles? Hey, talk to me.”

Stiles didn’t react in any way.

Out of options, Theo grabbed one of the syringes that the doctors had so kindly provided him with and stuck it in his arm, hoping the sedative would stop the boy’s panic attack.

Stiles’ eyes slowly closed and his shaking body slowed with his heart rate. He fell almost completely still once the sedative had kicked in.

Theo sighed, nothing he had done was working and if he wasn’t careful then he would soon kill the boy. If messing with him physically wasn’t working then he’d have to mess with him mentally.

* * *

 

 

Stiles slept for almost the whole day due to the sedative, his wounds and his lack of sleep. He woke up with a dull ache across his whole body and the feeling of hopelessness in the pit of his stomach.

_Let it end. Please let this end._

Unfortunately Theo hadn’t been stupid enough to leave anything he could use as a weapon in the room but Stiles was still wondering where he’d gone. He remembered the long nights when he didn’t pass out but couldn’t sleep due to his injuries, when Theo was gone and he was left alone to his thoughts.

_What if he doesn’t come back?_

Stiles climbed to his feet, making sure to not look at any of his skin for fear of what he’d see. Last time he looked he almost fainted. He rubbed the spot on his neck where Theo had stuck the syringe, he hated needles.

There was the sound of movement in the back room followed by the door to the room Stiles was being kept in opening.

  _There he is._

Theo walked in carefully, not actually wanting to startle Stiles out of fear of causing another panic attack. “Good, you’re up.”

_Whatever that means._

He put an arm around Stiles’ shoulder and walked him out of the room, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to make it that far on his own.

They walked into the back room and a familiar sight filled Stiles’ eyes. An ice bath had been laid out. Stiles knew very well what it was for but decided it had been too long since he had made any sarcastic remarks “Good, I needed a bath.”

Theo smiled, glad to see that he had gotten some of his energy back. “You know that’s not what it’s for.” The nogitsune hadn’t been appearing to Stiles in any nightmares but he was sure that he would in the trancelike subconscious state that the ice bath would bring.

Theo let go of Stiles shoulders, who leant on the side of the bath for extra support. He normally would have fought back but he just didn’t have the energy. Besides, this was far better than being beaten up. Hell, maybe he’d drown in the process.

The werewolf lost his smile then. “Get in.” He demanded, pleased when Stiles did as he was told. He took in a sharp breath when the cold hit him and his body began to tremor.

_I can’t believe athletes do this out of choice._

He was pushed under then, before he could fully adjust to the cold. It came as a shock to him and he tried to push against Theo’s hold, only for some water to blow up his nose. His eyes opened involuntarily once his body had no fight left, darkness covering the corners of his vision before fully enveloping it.

* * *

 

 

Stiles found himself back in the same white room of his mind. Only this time he was alone.

His clothes were wet and stuck to his skin as he wondered feverishly around the place, this time nothing happened. There were no doors that might lead him to another place and there was no nogitsune.

_Am I dead?_

**_No._ **

He made his way back to the ice bath and waited. What felt like 10 minutes passed, then an hour, and then another.

_How long have I been here?_

_How long will I be here?_

More time passed and Stiles found himself sitting on the floor, his head in his hands. “Come on!” He screamed in anguish, just wanting to get it over with. Nothing but the silence replied. “Where the hell are you?!”

He was really going mad now, answering his own questions. Talking to himself in his head.

**_We have to get out of here._ **

_But how?_

* * *

 

Apparently you can’t sleep when you’re in your mind. Stiles had tried, he’d closed his eyes for what felt like hours at a time but still could not find sleep.

_Come on you asshole, where are you?_

Something strange happened then, the voice of his own thoughts became unfamiliar to him.

**_I’m here._ **

Wait. It wasn’t unfamiliar, just forgotten.

**_I’ve been here the whole time._ **

He looked around the room, making sure the voice hadn’t come from any dark corners but it was still empty.

**_You won’t find me there._ **

_What’s happening?_

**_You’re losing your mind._ **

_Who are you?_ Stiles already knew the answer, he just didn't want it to be true. He didn't want to believe that the nogitsune had been talking to him this whole time.

**_Actually you’ve already lost your mind._** The voice taunted

_Shut up._

His mind fell silent for a second before the voice spoke up again.

**You’re running out of time.**

Something hit him across the head then, causing him to flinch and close his eyes. When he reopened them he was at the Sheriff’s station.

The Sheriff sat at his desk, looking tired and hopeless. “Dad?” Stiles’ voice broke as he spoke.

“Stiles.” His Dad’s voice lit something up in his eyes again, only for it to be extinguished as quickly as it was made. The Sheriff sat with Stiles’ red jumper at hand, he hadn’t noticed at first due to the red colour but crimson bled into the words 'STILINSKI 24', staining the white print.

Stiles went to make a move towards his Dad, to tell him that he was okay despite knowing that this wasn’t real, but the lights blew out and he was left standing in darkness, completely vulnerable. Perhaps his mind couldn't conjure up any new situations because he had been stood in the darkness for a while now.

**_You’re dying Stiles._ **

_No, I can’t. I’m all my Dad has._

**_Then let me in._ **


	6. Banshee

 

Scott was at the Sheriff’s station at the time it happened. They had been trying to help the Sheriff find a lead on Stiles who had been missing all week. Scott still hadn’t heard from Liam, Malia or Kira but Lydia was still with him and Derek had driven back to Beacon Hills once he had heard the news of the recent events in the town, the dread doctors, the chimeras and Stiles’ disappearance, bringing Isaac and Chris Argent with him.

“His jeep was towed on the way home, I went down to see it and it was completely trashed.”

“Yeah, Malia gave him a lift to the station.”

“That was the last place anyone saw him.” The Sheriff buried his face in his hands, rubbing his tired eyes. “Who would”-

Their conversation had been stopped mid-sentence when Lydia’s scream filled the air. The Sheriff was shocked and not quite aware of what the scream might bring but Scott had immediately jumped to the conclusion that something had happened to his friend.

He held Lydia by the shoulders, urgently needing answers. “Lydia? What is it?”

The banshee sunk to her knees then, her eyes sparkling with tears. Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “Stiles.”

Scott froze, his hands hovering over Lydia, Derek stood with a look of worry in his eyes and Chris with a look of concern. “Are you sure?”

She closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her face in the process, and nodded.

* * *

 

 

Stiles woke up spluttering and coughing, he was lying in a puddle on the floor next to the ice bath, his body cold and pale.

Theo leaned over him with the biggest needle Stiles had ever seen in his hand. It looked more like a weapon than a piece of medical equipment. Whatever was left inside of it didn’t look too appetising either. He sat up, rubbing the spot where Theo had injected him and muttering a curse under his breath.

“You know the doctors don’t actually know that I have this.” Theo spoke as he set the needle down on one of the metal shelves.

Although he still felt like death, Stiles felt a hell of a lot better. “What the hell was that stuff?”

“I’d seen the doctors use it before, I used it on Tracy, Hayden, Corey and Josh too.”

Stiles frowned then, pushing himself up to a sitting position. “You’re telling me that some miracle injection brought them back to life?”

“Well it worked on you so don’t doubt me, Stiles.”

Stiles felt momentarily sick but pushed it away “Did I…?”

“Yeah. You were under the water for too long and I didn’t pull you out in time.”

He pursed his lips, taking in this new information. He didn’t even know that he had died.

Theo crouched down and put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder who was currently still sat down. “I have to go now, but I need you to stay here.” He normally would have objected, but it was like something was preventing him from doing so. Perhaps it was gratitude; Theo had brought him back from the dead after all, even if he had been the one to kill him in the first place. He slowly nodded and Theo left.

_Why is he leaving?_

**_Perhaps he is running from something…_ **

_Yeah, right. I’ve never seen that guy run from a fight._

_Stiles stood up but instantly regret doing so when a wave of nausea hit him._

_You were only brought back from the dead, not healed entirely, dumbass._

Despite the fact that every step he took he faced the danger of falling flat on his face, Stiles proceeded to the metal door. It felt like ages ago since he had stepped through it. He had been so naïve.

 

* * *

 

The day after the incident at the Sheriff’s station, the pack had gone out looking for the chimeras. None of them had fully accepted the news that Stiles was dead, not even Lydia.

Scott was sat in the passenger’s seat of Lydia’s car, Isaac in the back and Argent and Derek were driving ahead of them. They were all headed back to Derek’s loft with files of information that could lead them to the chimeras.

Lydia had had the radio on for most of the drive to avoid any awkward conversations, or the dead silence that they kept falling into without Stiles there to fill it, but she had turned it off now, seemingly agitated by the noise and trying to make sense of something. She suddenly pulled over on the side of the road and let herself out of her car.

Scott and Isaac shared a look of confusion before following her out, Derek and Chris had stopped a couple metres ahead of them, wondering what was going on they too followed Lydia to the grassy verge.

 “Lydia, you okay?” Scott asked cautiously but she didn’t reply in any way. She just stood there, her eyes distant and her body seemingly lifeless.

“Lydia?” Derek asked. “What is it?”

Her eyes stayed distant as she spoke “I thought I heard something.”

Derek frowned then, understanding that it must be her banshee powers, he stepped closer. “What did you hear?”

Lydia's eyes hardened and she looked to Derek. “Stiles.”

Scott had been furrowing his brow and looking around the area but he nodded then “She’s right, I’ve got his scent. It’s old but he must have been here.”

Chris was crouching down when he spoke “There’re some faint tracks here suggesting that too. If I’m not mistaken he was with someone else.”

The whole packs eyes had filled with hope except for Isaac who had caught the smell of something else. “Scott, the scent you got, it smells like blood.”

Scott's eyes dimmed a little when he heard this. “But it’s still something.”

Derek was half listening to their conversation but his mind was somewhere else, his eyes traced the line of grass that didn’t quite look right and then landed on a wooden board that was sticking out from underneath it.

Without a word he stalked up to the wooden board with the pack watching him, the smell of blood got stronger. He lifted the grass which came away effortlessly, revealing the badly placed slants of wood which should have been covering the hole underneath.

His finger traced the dried blood on one of the wooden slants before moving them all aside.

“Oh God, we’re going down there, aren’t we?” Isaac groaned, lightening the situation a little. He was always good at that.

“Yep.” Derek replied before jumping down into the hole, not bothering to use the ladder which looked like it would break on contact.

The rest of the pack followed, Chris and Lydia having to use the ladder which was stronger than it had looked.

Scott was leading the way now eager to find his friend, Derek close behind with the rest of the group.

Soon enough they had come to a pair of metal doors, Stiles’ scent was stronger here. At first try the doors had not opened, but Scott used his werewolf strength to push them open once he realized they had been locked.

He stumbled into the room as they opened, his eyes searching the place for any sign of life but he soon got distracted by his surroundings. “The dread doctors.” He muttered after noticing the strange jarred objects and books, medical equipment strewn around the place.

Chris sighed “Now we know who took Stiles.”

Derek had been the only one to notice the doorway on the other side of the room and found an entirely new room through it. He entered, walking towards the operating table near the centre, assessing the stains on the table and the floor beneath.

Scott had soon followed Derek alongside Chris and stood at the doorway taking in the scene around him. Derek turned away from the table to look at Scott but something in the adjacent corner had caught his eye. He hadn’t seen him before because he was leaning against the same wall that the doorway was placed but now that Derek caught sight of the pale body his superhuman hearing kicked in, listening for any sign of life from the boy. He heard the reassuring sound of a heartbeat.

The pack stood next to Derek then, all eyes falling on the boy before them. Scott sighed in relief and crouched next to him “Stiles.”

Stiles was slumped up against the wall, head falling at an awkward angle and unconscious, what was visible of his skin was torn, broken and bruised. But one thought tugged at Scott’s mind: it didn’t look like the work of the dread doctors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it was about time the pack found Stiles, so here!


	7. Familiarity

 

A bright light greeted Stiles when he woke up, causing him to squint.

_Odd. Since when did this place have decent lighting?_

He sat up from his position, finding himself in unfamiliar surroundings.

_Where the hell am I?_

Frowning, he jumped off of the metal table he had been lying on. It reminded him of where he’d been previously staying, only this one didn’t have restraints or various blood stains on or around it. A shudder ran down his spine.

_Did Theo bring me here?_

**_No, he left. Remember?_ **

He quickly noticed a set of concrete steps leading to a metal door, the place was familiar but he couldn’t remember where he had seen it.

Stiles would have climbed them but he was afraid he wouldn’t quite make it to the top and injure himself further. With his wounds fresh on his mind, he scratched at one on his side that had been bothering him for quite a while, only to find that it was no longer open. The feel of his t- shirt snagging on something made his curiosity get the better of him, and he lifted the top to find the wound had been stitched up, the deeper one on his other side was bandaged rather tightly and he could feel himself sweating underneath it.

**_Who would help us?_ **

_I don’t know._

**_I say we find out then, get through that door and find who did this._ **

_No. If we get through that door then we run._

**_Yes. ‘If’ we get through that door._ **

Stiles sighed rubbing his head, he had grown accustomed to the nagging thoughts in his mind but it still gave him a headache. He could hear noise coming from the other side of the door and jolted upright, looking for anywhere he could hide himself.

He settled for the small gap between the wall and the underneath of the stairs, sliding himself between it.

**_Theo will hear our heartbeat, you know?_** The voice went unanswered but Stiles held his breath as the door opened then closed.

He held his hand over his mouth, not wanting his breath to spill out in fear, he had made that mistake one to many times.

Footsteps slowly made their way down the stairs and then stopped, they must have been wondering where he was.

They walked across the room then, stopping a little in front of the boy’s hiding spot. Their back was to him but he could still tell by the dark hair colour and build that it was not Theo.

**_Don’t trust them._ **

_Why? They might be helping us._

**_They didn’t lock the door behind them._ **

_So we can escape?_

**_We’ll have to get them down first._ **

Before the man turned to face Stiles, he had thrown himself full throttle onto his back, holding him in a choke hold and slowly suffocating him.

However, Stiles had not expected him to be quite so strong. The man flipped him off of him, causing him to hit the ground and the breath to leave him as he was winded.

Feeling vulnerable laying on his back, Stiles closed his eyes and sheltered his face with his forearms until a familiar grouchy voice filled the air. “Stiles?”

Stiles lowered his arms and peeked through his eyes once he recognised that the voice belonged to Derek Hale.

The werewolf actually looked concerned which was odd considering the guy normally had a face of stone. He kneeled then, offering a hand to Stiles and lifting him to his feet.

_No wonder this felt familiar, it’s Derek’s basement._

So many questions had filled his head but he could barely voice one word. “Derek?” His voice trembled slightly, a side effect from his recent trauma.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe now.” Derek reassured as he lead him back over to the table which Stiles sat on, already feeling wobbly on his feet.

Stiles hesitated, unsure of what to say. “How?”

“Scott and your Dad were looking for you for days but weren’t finding anything; Lydia’s the one who eventually found you.”

_My dad. He must be so worried._

Stiles got to his feet again then, a new found energy inside of him “My Dad? Is he okay?”

Derek held his hands out in front of him, ushering for him to sit back down so he wouldn’t hurt himself. “He’s fine, but he doesn’t know that we’ve found you yet.”

“Why? Why doesn’t he know?”

Derek fell silent then and he failed to make eye contact with the boy but Stiles pressed on. “Why doesn’t he know, Derek?”

“We’re worried that you’re not you.” Derek said carefully, this time making eye contact with him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We found you in one of the Dread Doctors’ labs.”

“So? I’m not a chimera; you know I haven’t had any transplants or skin grafts.”

“But that doesn’t explain why they took you.”

Stiles lied right through his teeth, he wanted to see his Dad and he didn’t want the others to hate him more than they already did. “I don’t know why they took me, I don’t remember much but I’m not a chimera.” At least half of that was true, he wasn't a chimera.

Derek sighed “We can’t let you see your Dad, not until we know you’re okay.”

“No.” Stiles objected. “Scott doesn’t want me out because he doesn’t trust me.”

“Stiles.” Derek growled, starting to lose his patience with the boy. “We can’t let you leave. It’s better if you stay down here anyway; you’re a lot less likely to hurt yourself.”

Stiles was furious, he didn’t care if he hurt himself. And he was pretty sure that Scott didn’t either. “I want to talk to Scott.”

“Fine.” The werewolf replied, leaving the room.

The door opened a minute or so later and Scott walked in, stopping at the bottom of the stairs.

Stiles was stood up again now, facing away from Scott as he didn’t want his puppy eyes to make him soft. He was angry.

“Stiles we can’t let you leave until we know you’re okay.”

He rolled his eyes at that and turned to the werewolf, his agitation getting the better of him. “I’m _fine.”_

Scott shifted in his spot, as if considering walking over to Stiles but stayed put. “Really? Because you’re sounding pretty pissed off right now.”

Stiles clenched his fists. “I’m pretty sure you would be pretty pissed off too if your ‘friends’ were holding you hostage in your other friends basement because they don’t trust you.”

“Stiles…” Scott started but wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. He felt terrible, what Stiles was saying was true but he didn’t want to risk letting him out of the basement in case Stiles or someone else got hurt.

“No.” Stiles was fuming now, he walked over to Scott and stopped in front of him, not wanting to get too close to anyone. “Screw this, I am not staying down here while you guys decide whether I’m trustworthy or not.” He went to walk past Scott. “I’m leaving and I’d like to see you stop me.”

Scott took a step back towards the steps and held Stiles by the shoulder, blocking his way out. His eyes turned hostile and glowed red, as if warning Stiles.

Stiles shoved Scott’s hands off of him, not wanting the contact, but his werewolf eyes unnerved him and he backed down.

**_We could always move him ourselves._ **

_I doubt we can take him._

**_Sure we can, he is weak, I can see it in his stance. He’s injured._ **

_Right, and he doesn’t really want to hurt me._

**_Exactly, that is our advantage._ **

Stiles’ fist flew to Scott’s face then, leaving him with a bloody nose. He shoved him aside, making his way up the stairs but the werewolf recovered too quickly. Scott grabbed his ankle, leaving him to fall up the stairs.

Stiles landed rather painfully, the stitching on his side stung and his eyes watered from the pain. But still he persisted, kicking Scott off of him, half crawling half walking the rest of the way up the stairs, his breath a lump in his throat.

He fell through the door, Scott close on his tail, and ran when he spotted the door to the loft. Much to his annoyance, Derek Hale pretty much appeared right in front of him and he ran straight into his chest, flumping to the floor after doing so.

Someone, Stiles was guessing Scott, held him down on the ground, slipping something around one of his wrists as he did so.

_Handcuffs?_

Stiles winced as he was dragged to his feet, the action pulling on all of his stitches. His pain was quickly replaced with anger and he scowled as he was lead back to the basement, sending a glare to Isaac and Chris who were stood off to the side watching.

Scott attached the other side of the handcuffs to the table leg back in the basement, now trying to be gentler when handling Stiles as he noticed his discomfort when they’d walked down the stairs.

He could feel the boy glaring daggers as he did so but refused to make eye contact with him until he had made sure the handcuffs wouldn’t let Stiles anywhere.

Stiles’ anger quickly deteriorated once Scott began to leave the room and his eyes softened as he felt tears prick at them. “Scott, don’t leave me down here.”

The werewolf opened his mouth as if to reply but quickly turned and closed the door behind him.

“Scott!” Stiles shouted after him, pulling against the handcuffs which rattled against the metal of the table leg.

Much to his disappointment, there was nothing in his vicinity that he could pick the lock with so he continued leaning against the handcuffs, trying to break them with his weight. He tried unscrewing the table leg from the floor so he could perhaps slide it off but his shaking hands could not undo the bolt.

With a scream, he tugged at the handcuffs one last time before falling back to a sitting position, out of breath from the struggling.

_They’ll come down in a minute and let you out._

A minute passed, then 10 and still there was no sign of Scott or Derek. He could hear faint talking from upstairs but couldn’t make out what they were saying; he could tell they were arguing though from the tone of their voices.

Stiles looked to his wrist as he felt a sudden sharp pain; the handcuff had cut into his skin from when he was pulling at it.

_Great._

The door opened and Stiles looked up wide-eyed to find Derek. The dark haired man made his way down the stairs and over to Stiles, a key at hand to unlock the handcuffs. He paused when he saw the cut where the handcuffs had dug into his skin but tried to play it off as if he hadn’t seen it and continued to unlock them.

Once they were off, Stiles rubbed absentmindedly at his wrist, wondering why he was taking the cuffs off, he knew fully well that the door to the basement didn’t lock and so he’d be able to leave if he wanted.

A firm hand held his shoulder and hoisted him to his feet, the other hand on his uninjured wrist, Derek lead him out of the basement and to one of the guest rooms. He noticed that this door _did_ have a lock and began to struggle against Derek’s hold. “Derek, no.” He protested. “Let me go!” His voice broke as he shouted, the phrase sounding all too familiar.

Wordlessly, Derek let go of Stiles and left him alone in the room, locking the door behind him. “Derek!” Stiles pulled at the door handle trying to free himself but the lock was too strong. “Derek!” He tried again, this time pounding on the door. “Hey! Let me out. Let me out!” 

* * *

 

 

 

Despite the fact that every step he took he faced the danger of falling flat on his face, Stiles proceeded to the metal door. It felt like ages ago since he had stepped through it. He had been so naïve.

He pushed at the double doors, finding they would not open to his touch. Taking a deep breath in, he pushed harder, his feet sliding out from underneath him. The doors still would not open. He pulled at them then, knowing that they opened either way as every time Theo entered the room he heard them open then swing shut.

_Did Theo lock me in?_

_What if he never comes back?_

_I’m trapped here._

Stiles screamed, hoping somebody would hear him but that hadn’t helped him so far. “Hey! Can somebody let me out of here? Someone? Anyone?!”

He waited for someone to come and save him, but no one came. Feeling hopeless, he slid down the door and sat leaning with his back against it.

_The average person can survive three weeks without food._

Stiles reminded himself, he bit his dry lips.

_But only 3 to 4 days without water._

Theo had been making sure Stiles didn’t die from dehydration and occasionally gave him a bottle of water, but now he was gone and Stiles had already gone over 24 hours without any water.

_It’s cold in here so I’m not going to lose any fluid through sweat. Not unless I start trying to push the door down again._

He ran his hands through his hair, it was greasy as he hadn’t washed it his whole stay unless he counted the ice bath as washing it. He probably would have been desperate enough to drink the water from it but he knew the bath was gone.

_I think there’s ventilation in the other room so it’ll be cooler in there._

With great difficulty, Stiles made his way to the back room where he’d spent most of his time, using the walls as a support and falling right back down once he arrived in the room.

_I should probably stay awake if I want to survive this._

Stiles rubbed his tired eyes, closing them and pressing his cold hands against his eyelids in a futile attempt to stay awake but he could already feel his mind shutting down. He opened his eyes to find his vision blurry and his head slid downwards, the wall stopping him from lying all the way down.

_How long?_

He found himself unable to form a proper sentence, even in his mind.

* * *

 

 

Once Stiles had given up on trying to pry open the door to the guest bedroom he looked around to see if anything useful had been left in there. The drawers and cupboard were empty but a bottle of water and a sandwich was waiting for him on the bedside table.

_So they’re feeding me?_

He felt like he couldn’t trust the food, what if they drugged him?

The bottle of water seemed to be unopened though and so he gulped the whole bottle down in seconds, feeling refreshed and more clear headed.

With a sigh he sat on the bed, the soft comfort of it felt foreign, nothing like the metal or concrete flooring he had grown accustomed to sleeping on.

The warmth of the covers was inviting him; he hadn’t realized how cold he was until now. Stiles wrapped himself up like a burrito under the blanket and found himself falling asleep despite his minds protests to stay awake and protect himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a longer chapter than usual. I'm not sure if it's the same for you guys but the end notes for my first chapter keep showing at the end of every chapter, I'm not sure why but I'll try to find a way to get rid of it.


	8. Guilt

 

Stiles woke to artificial light, the room they had left him in had no windows but he’d fallen asleep with the ceiling light on. Squinting, he hauled himself out of bed and stumbled to the light to turn it off.

The rest of the loft must have been well lit as light seeped out from under the door, illuminating the room enough for Stiles to see the outlines of furniture.

He sighed, placing his head in his hands as he sat back on the edge of the bed. Being trapped in the room made him feel restless, either that or the lack of Adderall he had been taking. His eyes caught sight of the other door in the room; he had found a bathroom in it before he’d fallen asleep.

With his hands to guide him, Stiles walked towards the bathroom, his hand searching the wall for a light switch. The light flickered on and he stepped into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

He felt strangely safe in a room he had locked himself in but left it after using the toilet, making sure to avoid any mirrors that might show him the state he was in.

The sound of the lock to the door clicking filled the room and Stiles froze, the light of the bathroom shone behind him, lighting the room in a way that didn’t hurt his eyes. A tentative knock on the door followed. “Stiles? It’s Deaton.”

A flicker of realization filled Stiles eyes as he ran a finger along one of his stitches. _So it was Deaton who fixed me up._

After a good 20 seconds with no answer, Deaton entered the room, Derek at his side. Something in Stiles didn’t like this, he felt cornered and dazed due to Derek flicking the light to the room back on. Stiles strained his eyes, his feet leading him away from the two people.

He could hear Deaton speaking but it was not aimed at him “Has anyone talked to him?”

Either he didn’t hear the reply from Derek or he had done that thing where he just frowns as an answer.

“Stiles, I need to check your stitches, make sure nothing’s infected. Okay?”

The words passed right over Stiles’ head who was holding his arms up slightly, trying to find something to hold onto for support as his feet carried him backwards to the wall. His eyes were still adjusting to the light when a firm hand grabbed his shoulder.

_Theo_

Still dazed, one of his hands flew up in a futile attempt to get the werewolf away from him, the wall behind him being the only thing to prevent him from falling backwards and the hand preventing him from falling forwards. The hand on the shoulder meant a new day of pain and torture, it meant that Theo would be bringing out a new method to get Stiles to cave in. The hand on the shoulder meant another day of misery.

It was like someone had slapped him in the face as he came back to reality, the light dimmed and he could see again. Derek was holding him by the shoulder, not Theo, and he was in the loft, not in the tiny room with the plaster walls. The ringing in his ears stopped and he could hear the concerned voice of Derek. “Stiles? Stiles, breathe.”

He sucked in a breath of air and slowly breathed it back out again, staring into the far corner of the room as he did so. The grip on his shoulder loosened.

Once the boy had calmed down, Deaton proceeded with his check- up. Sitting Stiles down and gently taking his arms to check some of the stitches over and pulling out an antiseptic wipe to clean the cut from the handcuffs, loosely bandaging it up afterwards. Stiles wasn’t enjoying the process but sat still, not wanting to piss anyone off.

Derek hadn’t paid much attention to the wounds before, not wanting to feel the pit in his stomach when he realized that someone had done this to Stiles, skinny defenseless Stiles.

But now his eyes traced the gashes on his arms as Deaton examined them, some were fresher than others but his eyes fell on some that looked particularly old, they appeared to spell something out but Derek couldn’t make out what it said beneath the newer ones.

After a moment he cleared his throat. “I’ll get some clean clothes.” Without waiting for a reply he left the room, knowing that Scott had picked up some of Stiles’ clothes from his house.

 

* * *

 

Derek had noticed that Stiles hadn’t eaten the sandwich from the previous day and Stiles could feel him looking at him as he left the room to discard of the now stale bread, before he could even think about exiting through the door that Derek had left temporarily open, Scott walked in.

Stiles sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands until Scott closed the door behind him and walked over to Stiles. Again, the feeling of panic washed over him but he pushed it down, Scott wouldn’t hurt him, right? The feeling of fear was still obvious by his demeanor and the look in his eyes; it didn’t go unnoticed by Scott who was moving slowly, not wanting to startle his friend. He placed a packet of crisps on the bed in front of Stiles who just looked at him questioningly.

After a few seconds of silence, Scott spoke up. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?”

“No.” Stiles replied simply, chewing on the side of one of his fingers.

“Are you ever going to tell anyone what happened?”

Stiles pretended to think for a second before replying once again. “No.”

Scott sighed, sitting opposite Stiles who still hadn’t taken the crisps, he frowned. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Uh, don’t know. How long was I gone?”

Scott swallowed, his throat dry from nerves. “Eight days.”

Stiles sat for a second, taking in the new information. “Well, there’s your answer.”

The room fell silent again.

“Was it really the dread doctors who took you?”

Stiles wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told them it was Theo yet, he wanted the guy locked up in Eichen House, but for some reason he still lied. “Yes.”

His answer was short, making it hard for Scott to tell if he was lying by his heartbeat.

“Did they…” Scott looked for words, not wanting to phrase it in an insensitive way as Stiles had gotten pretty pissed last time. “Do anything?”

Stiles responded in the same way as before “I don’t know.”

He had gotten pretty good at lying in the span of eight days, but he wasn’t an expert at it. Scott heard his heartbeat falter for a second, his eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything.

“Where’s Liam?”

The question had taken Scott aback for a second; he hadn’t expected Stiles to notice his absence. “I haven’t seen him since the super moon.”

Stiles frowned in thought. He remembered what Theo had said to him now, how he had thought for a moment that Scott was dead. “What happened?”

“Hayden died so Liam wasn’t too happy, and Theo gave me a wolf’s bane filled inhaler. Long story short we got into a fight.” Scott said bluntly before speaking again. “So you get to ask me questions but I don’t get to ask you anything with a straight answer?”

Stiles looked away, back to the corner he had grown so used to staring at. “I don’t want to talk about it.” That and he didn’t particularly want to talk to Scott.

Getting the hint, Scott left the room. No one else bothered him that day.

* * *

 

 

 Stiles didn’t hear from the nogitsune very often, only when his mind was weak, or when he wanted to. Part of him must have wanted advice because next thing he knew he was hearing from it again.

**_You didn’t tell Scott the truth._ **

_No, why should I?_

**_Not that. I mean Donovan; you still haven’t told him the truth about Donovan._ **

Stiles tried to push him away after that, but the statement had left his mind open and the fox persisted.

**_I know what you’re thinking. Even when you do shut me out. I feed off what you feel, remember?_ **

_And what exactly do I feel?_ Stiles managed to make even the voice in his head sound sarcastic.

**_You feel guilty._ **

He managed to subdue the fox then but it came back late in the night, when Stiles had awoken from a nightmare.

**_You still want to leave this place?_ **

Stiles considered not answering the fox but he was curious as to what it had to say. _Yes?_

**_You’re strong enough to open the door you know?_ **

_I already tried that, it didn’t work._

**_You let your emotions get the better of you. How do you expect to be strong when you’re weak of mind?_ **

With a sigh, Stiles begrudgingly got out of bed and carefully padded to the door, not wanting to wake Derek up as he was most likely sleeping here, he would have been out of earshot if it weren't for his super human hearing. He reached out for the door handle, turned it, and pulled.Nothing happened.

**_You’re overthinking it._ **

The fox was right; he was worrying too much about being heard by Derek. He took a breath, frowning at the door before trying again. The door wrenched open with the most agonizing sound, the hinges screeched as they were ripped out of place and the metal bent and warped around the lock. He smirked.

Stiles listened out for a second before deciding that Derek was a deep sleeper and walked across the landing to the front door which Derek never locked. It slid open rather quietly and he made sure to close it behind him.

_God why does this place have to be so high up?_ Stiles sighed as he made his way down the many flights of stairs, glad that they had railings for him to hang onto so he didn’t fall to his death due to the feeling of his stitches pulling every time he moved. There was a particularly long slash travelling down his leg which felt like it was burning from the sudden exercise.

Harsh wind hit him once he got outside, it stunned him for a second, stinging the wounds on his arms before making them feel numb from the cold. The sudden cold of it against his bare skin was somewhat refreshing although he wished he had a hoodie to keep him warm and not just a t-shirt.

Stiles laughed, he was outside. He finally felt the freedom he had been yearning for so long. His bare feet took him to the only place he could think of to go; home, to his Dad.

* * *

 

It felt odd standing in his driveway, his Dad’s car was there and so was his jeep. God did he miss that piece of crap. His Dad must have got it repaired as it was looking a bit worse for wear last time he’d seen it but was looking considerably better now.

The front door was open, his Dad never locked it considering he was the Sheriff of the town, plus there weren’t many incidents of burglaries in Beacon Hills, just supernatural murderers and homicide.

It felt surreal to be stood in his house, he never thought he would see it again, but here he was.

Stiles found his Dad asleep in the dining room, files and paper spread across the table and an empty cup of coffee in his hand.

Stiles gently took the cup out of the Sheriff’s hand and took it into the kitchen. His Dad hadn’t been doing the washing up as it was now piled up next to the sink which Stiles began to fill with soapy water. He remembered Deaton saying something about not showering for a couple days as it could make his wounds worse but there were only a few cuts on his hands and lower arms.

He quietly rinsed and washed up the dishes and cutlery before putting them away in the cupboards and drawers. It was probably best that his Dad didn’t see him as Derek had said he didn’t know they’d found him, he was now on the run from the whole pack, and he didn’t want his father to see him in this state.

He grabbed the blanket that was hanging off the back of the couch in the living room before carefully wrapping it around the Sheriff’s shoulders. “See ya, Dad.” He sighed before leaving the house, pulling on a hoodie and making sure to grab his backpack and a pair of sneakers before he left.

It was beginning to get light outside so Stiles didn’t have much time before someone noticed he was gone, if they hadn’t already. He climbed into his jeep and started it up, sitting and listening to the sound of the engine before shifting into gear and reversing out of the drive.

He wasn’t sure how or why but he ended up parking in the car park of a diner, he considered parking in the school’s parking lot as it was free but that was too predictable and his jeep was too recognizable.

He checked the glove compartment and found some cash in there, maybe he could get some breakfast. He felt his stomach grumble at the thought of waffles as he rummaged through the glove compartment until he found a container of Adderall, he swallowed them dry as he didn't have any bottled water with him and then climbed out of his jeep, stuffing his money into his backpack and lugging it onto his shoulder.

The diner was fairly empty, there were a couple of old people seated near the door and so Stiles walked straight to the back of the building, not wanting to be around anyone. He sat in a booth in the corner, pulling a menu out and quickly scanning through it.

He ordered Belgian waffles and a chocolate milkshake out of habit; it was what he ordered whenever he went out with his Dad ever since he was little. 

Paying and thanking the waitress, Stiles dug into his food, he could practically feel his mouth watering at the sight of the food. The waffles were gone in a matter of minutes but Stiles struggled to drink the milkshake, unsure that he could stomach it.

He took the beverage into the jeep as it was in a takeaway cup and sat in the driver’s seat, searching through his bag and pulling out the items he’d packed in there. Some spare clothes, a flip phone, a wash bag with toothpaste and a toothbrush, another container of Adderall and a small first aid kit.

Stiles shoved the first aid kit under the car seat, making the bag lighter in case he had to grab it and run, before putting the rest of the contents back into the bag.

There were only two other cars in the parking lot, both of them empty, but Stiles couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking about bringing another character into this but I'm not entirely sure yet. Also, if you're here for void then we will be seeing more of him as Stiles gets better.


	9. Confessing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the update took longer than usual, I kept re-writing it because I didn't like how it turned out but I think I'm happy with this version. I still haven't figured out how to get the end chapter notes for the first chapter off of all the other chapters so bear with me.

The feeling of horror filled Derek’s stomach when he walked past Stiles’ door and noticed it was slightly open and lopsided. He pushed the door open and quickly glanced around the room to find Stiles was gone, his scent was still quite fresh so he must have left that night.

He struggled to close the door behind him; it had broken slightly at the hinges and was dragging across the floor with an awful sound. Derek could feel the bent metal under his hand as he did so, leading him to wonder if Stiles was the one who broke out or if something had broken in. He couldn’t imagine the boy doing such a thing.

With his mobile phone at hand he called Scott, it was pretty early in the morning so he answered the phone after numerous rings, the sound of sleepiness in his voice. “Derek?”

“There’s been problem.” Derek stated as he inspected the door.

“What do you mean? What’s happened?” He could hear Scott sitting up from bed, his voice now more alert.

“Stiles is gone.”

 The phone went silent for a second before Scott replied. “I’ll be right there.”

* * *

 

 

Stiles’ exercise of the day was taking its toll on him, he found himself flopped over in the driver’s seat of the jeep, his body heavy, tired and aching all over.

_What kind of first aid kit has no painkillers?_

He had searched through the box that he had discarded under his seat for any kind of painkiller but only found plasters, bandages and a thermometer, none of which was helpful at the moment.

A sigh escaped his lips; he’d been sat in the jeep for a few hours and was already beginning to feel bored. He hadn’t exactly thought through what he would do once he escaped and found that he had nowhere to go where Scott or his father wouldn’t find him.

A scraping noise came from behind his jeep, just audible through the open window of Stiles’ jeep. On edge, Stiles leaned out of the window and craned his neck around to see what might have made the noise.

The parking lot was still empty and there was no sign as to what had created the noise so Stiles sat back in his seat and rolled up his window, assuming he had imagined the sound. He was absentmindedly flipping his phone open and closed, overcome by boredom, when the passenger door forcefully opened and closed.

 Stiles body stiffened and he would have turned around to see the intruder had they not pressed something sharp against the back of his neck. Stiles would have thought it was a knife if it weren’t for the fact that there were three of them. Claws.

_Theo?_

A voice spoke then, one that thankfully did not belong to Theo. “I suggest that you get out of the car.”

Stiles recognised the voice and his suspiscions were confirmed when he turned to face the man. “Peter.”

Peter dropped his claws away from Stiles’ neck. “Why doesn’t anyone have any enthusiasm in their voice when they say my name?”

“Because everyone hates you.” Stiles retorted, part of him somewhat missing the conversations he had with Peter and the mocking tone both of them took on when they talked to each other. The other part of him was scared witless because however witty Peter could be, he was a lunatic.

Peter rolled his eyes before tilting his head and staring Stiles dead in the eye. “Am I going to have to ask you again?” He threatened, waiting for Stiles to do ask he asked.

His hands shaking, Stiles opened the door and climbed out of his jeep, watching as Peter shuffled into the driver’s seat before patting the passenger’s seat, gesturing for Stiles to get back in. Stiles feet dragged across the floor as he made his way to the passenger’s side and climbed back in, shutting the door behind him.

Peter said nothing, just sat staring at the boy in the quiet of the jeep before Stiles cleared his throat and broke the silence. “So, what do you want?”

“Where are we going?” Peter rephrased Stiles’ question as he pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive towards an unknown destination. “Well, I know that the pack are all looking for you and that they don’t have the slightest clue where you are. What I don’t know is why. All I know is that if you were to go missing right now then nobody would notice, let alone think it was me who took you.”

Stiles throat went tight, the thought of being kidnapped yet again wasn’t exactly appealing. “Why would you need me?”

“Because I think you know what’s going on in this town better than everyone else, you’re easy to kidnap and if something were to happen to you then Scott’s whole pack would be broken.”

Stiles laughed at his last reason. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be so sure; things have changed since you left.”

Peter raised any eyebrow, keeping his eyes on the road but clearly giving Stiles a questioning look. “What’s happened to you? Your chemo signals are all off and you smell terrible.”

“Thanks. I’m aware.”

“I mean you smell like you’re dying.”

Stiles froze, he had forgotten about werewolf senses but he was pretty sure even a human would be able to smell the stale smell of death on his skin. “It doesn’t matter, why don’t you just carry on with your evil plan?”

Peter pulled his lip back, annoyed that Stiles had brushed off his question. “What’s happened?” He tried again, this time his voice stern.

“I killed someone.” Stiles simplified his answer, not wanting to recount the events of torture or bring up the fact that he was now a genetically modified nogitsune.

Peter fell silent, taking in Stiles’ response before speaking again. “You don’t seem like the murdering type.”

“They threatened to eat my legs.” Stiles had meant for his reply to be sarcastic but he felt his stomach drop, Peter was the first person he had admitted the truth to. “I was climbing up a scaffold to try and get away and he had my by the leg so I pulled one of the pins out and the scaffold came down on him.” He rushed the rest of the story out, feeling slightly better now that someone knew, even if it was Peter.

The werewolf nodded, beginning to understand now. “And Scott doesn’t know that, does he?”

Stiles shook his head. “No one knows.”

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, Stiles didn’t even speak when he pulled over to a series of old apartments. Peter wasn’t planning on hurting the boy, he just wanted some leverage and to find out what had happened in Beacon Hills since he had been gone.

He climbed out of the car, Stiles following sheepishly after him, and let himself into one of the apartments. Stiles frowned when he saw the beaten up and old inside of the apartment, guessing that no one else lived in these. “Do you live here?”

“For now.” Peter answered as he lead Stiles into another room, both of them sitting on the worn out couch.

Stiles sighed after a moment. “So, you want to know what you’ve missed?” Peter nodded and Stiles continued. “Well, these crazy scientists called the Dread Doctors started kidnapped a load of teenagers and turning them into chimeras. That’s what the guy who tried to kill me was. Donovan, they made him into a wendigo. Then there was Tracy, she was a kanima, there were a couple werewolves, I don’t actually know what the others were but they were weird.” Stiles found himself getting off topic. “Anyways, I don’t know what they actually wanted with the chimeras because pretty soon they started killing them.”

“Could they have anything to do with the beast?” Peter interjected.

“The beast?” Stiles asked, confused.

“The Beast of Gevaudan. A wolf- dog hybrid from the 18th century which killed 113 recorded people.”

Stiles frowned; he wasn’t sure what this had to do with the doctors. “A hybrid? So, it could have been a chimera?”

Peter nodded. “I heard a rumour that it’s back.”

“Another giant wolf- dog running around killing people? Great.”

Peter sighed at the hit from Stiles. “Believe me, this things a lot worse.”

Stiles sunk his head into his hands. “So that’s something else to worry about.”

Peter was still intrigued about what had happened to the teenager, he’d noticed the bruising on his face, the blood seeping through his t- shirt and he could smell the fear on his skin. “So how do you come into this?”

Stiles flinched at his question, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “It’s not relevant.”

Peter leaned closer to stiles “Tell me.” He growled, not liking how he was avoiding the subject. “Something tells me that you don’t want Scott to find you so it would be a shame if I were to text him your location.”

Stiles bit his bottom lip, taking a deep breath in before speaking. “This guy Theo, he was working with the Dread Doctors and he brought a load of chimeras back to life to join his pack. Originally he wanted Scott’s pack and he manipulated his way into Scott’s trust then told Scott that I straight up murdered Donovan and Scott believed Theo over me.” Stiles recounted the events like they were yesterday, anger brimming inside of him once he reminded himself of that night. “Anyway, Theo got me alone and vulnerable and then he kidnapped me and took me to the Dread Doctor’s underground lair and tried to torture me into joining his pack.” Stiles lied at the end of his story. It wasn’t an entire lie, it was half true. He just missed out the part where the doctors turned him into a nogitsune.

Peter picked up on Stiles’ accelerating heartbeat. He soon stood up and began to pace the room, his actions clearly making Stiles uncomfortable. “That doesn’t explain why he took you to the Dread Doctor’s lair.” His pacing stopped in front of Stiles and he squinted at the boy, once again getting his scent and reading his chemo signals. “Unless they turned you into a chimera.”

Stiles glanced up at Peter upon his realization but stared back down at the floor.

Peter tilted his head, thinking back to how the beast could be a chimera. If Stiles was a chimera and he was still alive then that would surely mean he was the beast. Perhaps Peter could make Stiles stay the night to see if he’d transform, then he’d know for sure. He was pretty certain that it was true, Stiles was a teenager like the other chimeras and the rumours must have started shortly after Stiles had been turned.

Stiles clasped his hands together nervously, knowing that he couldn’t lie to Peter; he would pick up on his heartbeat and know he was lying. “Don’t tell Scott.”

“Fine.” Peter agreed, exiting the room and pulling on a coat. Stiles wondered where he was going since it was getting pretty late but didn’t bother to answer the question since Peter seemed like he was on a mission and probably wouldn’t spill the beans to Stiles anyway. “Don’t go anywhere.” He ordered as he left the apartment, leaving Stiles completely alone.

_It’s not like I have anywhere to go anyway._


	10. Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made this chapter pretty long because I'm going to be away most of next week so I won't be able to update for a while. I hope it's okay as I haven't had time to proof read it properly but I will at some point later on. Anyways, I'll see you guys on the next update and thank you for all of the lovely comments! It means so much that you're enjoying this story!
> 
> WARNING- if you don't like reading about vomiting then it is mentioned in this chapter, I made sure not to get too descriptive as I know this can affect people.

Once Peter had left, Stiles took the chance to look around the apartment for anything that might be useful but soon found that the place had minimal furniture and the drawers and cupboards were empty. He felt his stomach growling as he closed the door to the empty fridge in defeat.

He was hoping he’d be able to find some painkillers somewhere but had doubted that from the start as Peter wasn’t one to use them. Stiles realized that he’d left his backpack and flip phone in the jeep when he’d followed Peter but soon discovered that the werewolf had locked the door behind him, possibly taking the keys to Stiles’ jeep with him.

With a huff, Stiles collapsed onto the sofa he had been sat on with Peter beforehand, the rough material of it rubbed against the bare skin of his cheek and so he turned from his side onto his back. It was better for Stiles to lie like this; it relieved the pressure on his damaged ribs and the deep, bandaged cut on his side.

With his mind on the wound, Stiles noticed a splotch of blood forming on his t- shirt; the cut must have opened back up and bled straight through the bandage. Stiles would have replaced it if he had his first aid kit with him and not in the jeep but instead he watched the blood spread through the fabric of his shirt, his head propped up by the arm of the couch.

Frowning, Stiles clambered up from his position and shakily made his way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He carefully pulled his t- shirt off, feeling it snag on his stitches as he did so. The sight beneath the shirt made Stiles feel sick to his stomach, the bandage on his side wrapped around and concealed part of his ribs but from what he could see they were purple and blue with bruises.

Stiles rubbed at his shoulder, remembering how Theo had forced his claws into the wound from Donovan. He remembered the twisting of his flesh and the warmth of blood trickling down and out of the injuries; a shiver ran down his spine.

Hand trembling, Stiles unwound the bandages to reveal the throbbing cut. It was deeper than he thought and the stitches that had been holding it shut had undone, allowing blood to run down his skin once again.

Stiles grabbed the only towel in the room and wiped his hands clean on it, having got blood on them when he was taking the bandages off. He disposed of the bandages and kicked his t- shirt to the side before climbing into the shower. He would have waited for the water to get warm but figured that a run-down place like this didn’t have a boiler and so turned the cold water on himself. Stiles’ body began to shake even more, due to the sudden cold on his skin.

**_I thought Deaton told you not to shower yet?_ **

The voice was thick with malice and Stiles could practically hear the smile in it.

_What Deaton doesn’t know won’t hurt him._

There was a small bottle of shampoo laying on its side in the shower which Stiles proceeded to rub into his hair. The chemicals from it ran down his body with the water and stung every cut and scratch that it touched. Stiles closed his eyes and winced from the pain, a sudden wave of nausea hitting him.

Some part of him relished the cold, it numbed the pain and woke his mind, the other part was screaming for him to escape the icy clutch.

**_Isn’t it cold Stiles?_ **

A new found energy pulsated through Stiles and his hand shut the water off and released him from the shower. His skin was pale and stung from the cold and Stiles’ whole body was stiff. With water still dripping from his hair, Stiles pulled his t- shirt back on and climbed back into the rest of his clothing.

He made it two steps out of the bathroom before falling to the floor at Peter’s feet.

The werewolf stood and looked quizzically at the boy before crouching beside his body. His hand went to his forehead but he pulled it away quickly once he felt the freezing skin. “Stiles?” Peter questioned as his eyes found the blood marking his t- shirt. With no reply from the teenager, Peter lifted the shirt to inspect the wound, dropping it once he saw the injuries hidden beneath.

With his breath hitched in his throat, Peter walked to the front door where he’d left the items he’d retrieved from Stiles’ jeep; he quickly came across the first aid kit and brought it back to the boy along with a bottle of alcohol.

Peter poured the alcohol onto a cloth and pressed it down on the particularly nasty looking cut that started at the bottom of his rib cage and ended at his waist, Stiles almost immediately shot up from the contact, a cry escaping his mouth and his hands weakly trying to pry Peter off.

“Stiles you need to let me clean this.” Peter insisted, continuing to hold the cloth in place.

“No, let go!” The sheriff’s son stuttered as he wriggled under Peter’s hands.

Peter rolled his eyes and moved the cloth across the wound, making sure to clean it properly. By now Stiles had some of his strength back and was grabbing at Peter’s wrists to try and force him off.

The man discarded of the cloth and spoke with a sigh “You’re going to have to keep still for this next part.” He retrieved a sterile needle from the kit and began to thread it.

Stiles’ eyes widened at the sight and he weakly began to push himself up from the floor but his legs betrayed him and he soon dropped back down.

“There’s no anaesthetic in there so this might hurt.” Peter warned as he leaned closer to the injury, a pair of scissors at hand to cut the old stitches away.

Against Stiles’ fumbling hands, Peter cut and tugged the stitched away, Stiles’ skin pulling slightly with it. He pressed a clean cloth over it, letting it soak up the blood and the alcohol on it to disinfect the area.

The werewolf quickly picked up the needle and decided he wouldn’t be able to stitch the wound back up with Stiles’ struggling. Normally, Peter would have just knocked him unconscious but at this point that would only worsen Stiles’ condition. So, with his free hand, Peter seized both of Stiles’ wrists and held them down but it didn’t stop him from kicking his legs out.

Sick of Stiles’ behaviour, Peter sat on Stiles’ legs, his weight not allowing the boy to move them anymore. His hand was still holding Stiles’ wrists down while his other sent the needle through the first bit of Stiles’ skin.

Stiles let out another cry and Peter could feel him pushing against his grip as he sent the needle back through to the other side. Once Peter had stitched the whole wound shut, Stiles’ face was stained with tears and his hands were once again trembling under his grasp.

With his expression still uncaring, Peter released Stiles from his grip before standing and leaving the room.

Stiles lay there for a while, his heart beating rapidly from fear and his body curling in on itself.

* * *

 

 

Peter ordered pizza that night, he wasn’t the kind of person who’d cook a meal for someone he disliked, let alone someone he suspected of being a murderous beast.

Stiles wasn’t sure how he got it ordered to this address, he imagined him giving the pizza boy his serial killer look and the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. He was sat alone on the sofa, Peter had gone into one of the other rooms and Stiles didn’t exactly want to intrude on him. The two hadn’t spoken since Stiles freaked out and the only interaction they had was when Peter handed him the pizza box.

Stiles had got changed into some of the clothes from his backpack and was now lounging on the sofa and eating pizza, wondering why he was here again, how Peter was going to use him as leverage or to get to Scott. It was all quite amusing to Stiles as he knew Scott wouldn’t care if Peter hurt him, all he wanted to do was make sure Stiles didn’t hurt anyone else.

He felt better now that he was cleaner after the shower and the cut was taken care of, no longer a reminder as to how he got it. Still, the voice in his head continued to torment him.

**_It was Peter’s idea that split us up in the first place, remember?_ **

The nogitsune would go quiet for a couple minutes, making Stiles think he’d shut it out. Before once again making a remark like that.

Stiles set the pizza box down after eating the contents and wiped the crumbs from the crust on his jeans. A sudden cold washed back over him and he shivered.

 ** _Isn’t it cold Stiles?_** The voice said the same thing it had in the shower beforehand.

Stiles brought his knees up to his chest in an attempt to warm himself up.

**_Don’t fight. Embrace it._ **

_No._

**_I’m trying to help you Stiles._ **

As the cold intensified, Stiles felt himself go numb and dropped back into a sitting position, the fox’s energy running through his veins and leaching into every inch of his body. His shoulder twitched and became ice cold, the wendigo bite on it stinging and pulsating as the feeling travelled through the rest of his form.

The sensation was over as quick as it started and Stiles found he could move again, this time with more strength and ease. With curiosity gnawing at his mind, Stiles lifted his shirt and found that the cut had partly healed along with his shoulder but the smaller scratches and bruises still littered his body.

The nogitsune had fallen silent now, having done its work.

 

* * *

 

Stiles must have fallen asleep because next thing he knew something was being tossed towards him. Peter had flung his backpack towards him and was now standing in the room.

Stiles sat up, picking up the backpack and looking at it, confused. It wasn’t the backpack he had brought with him but his school one. “Where did you get this?”

Peter stared back at him and spoke as if the answer was obvious. “Your house. It was particularly easy to get considering your door’s never locked.”

Stiles just stared back at him in disbelief. “Don’t make a habit of breaking into my house.” His fingers played with the zips of the bag. “What’s this for?”

“You’re going to go to school.” Peter spoke impassively. Stiles hadn’t turned into a rampaging chimera shadow thing in the middle of the night and so Peter had decided to let Scott handle the teenager. Sending him to school was the easiest option as it didn’t involve Scott finding out that he was in town.

Stiles had stood up after hearing Peter’s answer and turned on him. “What happened to using me as leverage?”

“Honestly? I was just making sure you weren’t The Beast of Gevaudan.” Peter replied, turning away from the boy. “Now, get your ass in your jeep and drive yourself to school or I’ll send you gift-wrapped to Scott’s house.”

Stiles opened his mouth to argue but instead grabbed the backpack and let himself out of the house, slamming the door behind him and climbing into his jeep. The flip phone was still on the passenger seat and so he shoved it into his jeans’ back pocket after checking the time, at least he wasn’t going to be late. He started the jeep and drove to Beacon Hills High.

The parking lot was full of cars but most of the students were in the school by now. Stiles sighed, he would have just gone somewhere else but he figured he would have to face Scott and his pack eventually. He may as well do it while learning everything he’d missed in the syllabus.

With his backpack on one shoulder, Stiles exited his jeep and stormed into the school, walking quickly through the corridors. Stiles was relieved that he didn’t need anything from his locker, it meant that he could go straight to Chemistry without getting confronted by anyone.

Scott’s jaw practically dropped when Stiles walked into the classroom, he would have laughed if he wasn’t so pissed off with the alpha. He took his seat in front of Scott, noting Isaac’s presence in the room as well.

Stiles spent the lesson trying to ignore the stares from the two werewolves and tried to focus on his work, he was reading through the text book and highlighting what he thought was useful information. Of course, this consisted of highlighting the entire page because the teachers somehow expected him to memorise all of this.

Once the bell rang for the end of the lesson, Stiles struggled with opening his bag, his hands fumbling with the zips. By the time he’d gotten the textbook back into his bag the entire class was gone except for Scott and Isaac.

 _Typical._ Stiles thought to himself.

Isaac swung the classroom door shut but Stiles continued to walk in that direction anyway, only to get pushed back by Isaac when he went to open it. Stiles gave a silent look of hatred to Isaac for the action and rolled his head to look to Scott.

Almost as soon as his back was to Isaac, the werewolf had him against the classroom wall, his cheek pushing uncomfortably into a poster advertising a school play. Either they really wanted him to go to the play, or they had bad intentions. Scott had been stood off to the side until now, he stood on one side of Stiles and Isaac stood on the other, one hand holding one of his wrists and the other on the back of his neck, pushing him into the wall.

Fear threatened to suffocate Stiles as he was held there, the close contact and feeling of vulnerability instigating it. The panic showed in his voice as he spoke. “I guess you guys don’t want to talk?”

His question was answered when Scott got his claws out, his eyes glowing their crimson red as he did so. The action reminded him of Theo, of claws raking across his skin and he closed his eyes tight, trying to discard the memory.

Stiles felt Scott’s hand on the back of his head and before he could even comprehend what was happening, Scott’s claws were burrowed in the back of his neck.

Stiles didn’t know what memories Scott was after but he didn’t want him to find out about him being void so he focused on one memory, forcing it upon Scott. He focused on how he was fixing his jeep, then the excruciating pain when Donovan grabbed him with his wendigo hand, and then he was running through the school corridors, scared for his life before settling on hiding in the library. He thought of how Donovan threatened to eat his legs just to hurt his Dad and climbing up the scaffold to get away, pulling the pin out in the process and watching the scaffold fall onto Donovan. The image of the scaffold impaling him was the last thing he saw before he was pulled from the memory.

Stiles body had slumped to the floor and stayed limp as he fought against unconsciousness, he could hear talking and focused on it.

“I was just suggesting that you let Stiles here go.” A voice sneered from inside the classroom. “He doesn’t look to good without you shoving your claws in his neck.”

Stiles opened his eyes to see white sneakers, his expression vacant as he brought himself back to reality. The room had fallen silent once he shifted his position, making him feel uncomfortable with the knowledge that all eyes were on him.

He rubbed his neck as he scrambled to his feet, knowing Scott had seen what he wanted from the solemn expression on his face. Isaac just looked confused, not knowing who the newcomer was.

Theo stood a couple metres in front of Stiles and he felt his heart race at the sight of him, at all of the memories he brought back. “You alright, Stiles?” He asked innocently, looking between him and Scott.

Stiles wondered if Scott had figured out it was Theo who took him but he seemed to be dealing with the information that Stiles wasn’t a cold blooded murderer.

Stiles blinked a couple of times, trying to make himself feel more awake before picking his backpack up from the floor and heaving it onto his shoulders, not bothering to answer Theo’s question.

With tears stinging his eyes, Stiles left the room with his eyes to the floor, this time no one tried to stop him.

* * *

 

 

The next lesson went by quickly; no one in Scott’s pack was in his class so he could focus on the material without any interruptions. Stiles spent his free period in the library, reading up on what he’d missed in the past two weeks away from school.

By the time lunch came, Stiles had finished debating whether or not he’d go to the cafeteria. On one hand he was hungry, on the other hand Scott and his pack would be in there.

Deciding he didn’t want to sit through his last lesson with his stomach growling, Stiles went to the cafeteria, having to pass Lydia on the way.

Stiles figured that she hadn’t seen Scott yet as when she caught sight of him her eyes went wide and her face paled. She was sat with Kira, obviously waiting for the rest of the pack to arrive and both of them had turned their heads towards him when he walked in.

With his eyes trained on the food, Stiles walked straight past the two and picked up a tray, collecting food as he went. He searched the cafeteria for a second before he spotted an empty table to sit on.

It was not until he had sat down that the rest of the pack had joined Lydia and Kira, each of them sending worried glances in his direction. Stiles rested his head in one of his hands, blocking the pack from his sight and using his other hand to eat.

The air around Stiles shifted as someone sat beside him and he glanced up to find Theo sitting beside him. Stiles went to shift along the bench immediately after Theo sat down but Josh sat on his other side of him, both of them uncomfortably close. Tracy and Corey moved to sit opposite him and Stiles found himself encircled by the pack, he felt trapped despite knowing that he could leave at any time he wanted.

Gripping the edge of his food tray with both hands, Stiles kept his head down, the fear pooling in his stomach. “Hey, Stiles.” Corey greeted friendlily, clearly oblivious to what was happening. Stiles glimpsed back at the boy but made no attempt at a reply.

Theo dismissed his attitude and spoke up then. “So, I’m guessing you’ve heard about the beast?”

Stiles nodded, brushing mashed potato off his lips before speaking. “Sure have.”

“And you know its end game?” Theo tested, watching Stiles’ every move. He sighed when the boy didn’t reply and answered the question for him. “It’s going to kill everyone unless it’s stopped.”

“Fascinating, and you’re telling me this why?” Stiles retorted, scratching the back of his neck and instantly regretting his brashness towards the chimera.

“Because I think you can help.” Theo simplified his answer, not wanting to mention anything that Scott didn’t already know as he was clearly listening.

Stiles met eyes with Scott before turning back to Theo, his hands back on the food tray rather than the chimera’s throat. “And why the hell would I want to help you?”

Theo’s eyes wondered over Stiles, looking at him more like a piece of meat than a person. “You know I have my ways of persuasion.” By now Stiles had gotten up and was walking away. “Think about it.” Theo called after him.

Stiles headed straight for the boy’s bathroom, thankful that it was empty. He barely made it to the sink in time before puking up a mixture of the food he’d just eaten and blood. The ordeal with Theo had really set him on edge, so much that he puked a second time.

Stiles turned the tap on; rinsing his mouth out into the sink and watching the red substance run down the drain before wiping his mouth on his sleeve and pulling his hood over his head to hide both his face and the claw marks on his neck.

* * *

 

His last lesson of economics dragged on, coach was ranting about no one having done Friday’s reading and so Stiles spent the lesson scribbling in his notebook.

“You alright back there, Stilinski?” Coach called across the room to Stiles who had zoned out to think about Theo’s concealed threat to him earlier.

Stiles peered up at coach, the whole class now looking at him. He shook his head to displace his thoughts before replying. “Yeah, fine.”

“I thought considering you’d missed so many lessons, you would at least be listening.”

Stiles felt himself fume at this, coach clearly didn’t know why he had been off and so he took a breath before replying. “I was sick, still am a little.” He faked a cough, inwardly rolling his eyes at the man.

“Yeah, and I’m sick of teaching a bunch of teenagers who can’t stay focused for more than 10 minutes.” Coach muttered before changing the subject and getting back to teaching.

This time when the bell went, Stiles was quicker than everyone else to leave and so he managed to avoid another conflict with Scott.

It was only until he’d climbed into his jeep and shut the door behind him that he realized Theo was sat in the passenger’s seat, waiting for him. “Have you thought about my offer?” Theo asked, staring out of the window.

“It felt like more of a threat than an offer.” Stiles corrected him but didn’t answer his question.

Theo turned to face him and smiled. “It wasn’t much of a threat. I couldn’t exactly threaten you with Scott in the room could I?” He shifted in his seat before speaking up again. “But Scott isn’t listening this time.”

Stiles eyed the parking lot, finding no sign of Scott’s motor bike. “You’re going to be a part of my pack, Stiles. Whether you like it or not.”

Stiles felt his heart hammering against his rib cage as he spoke. “Just get out of my car and leave me alone.”

Theo’s eyes turned cold and he moved closer to Stiles, knowing how uncomfortable it made him feel. “I thought you’d learnt your lesson about talking back to me?” He referred to the week Stiles had spent with him, the same devilish smirk playing on his lips as before.

Stiles had no time to reply as Theo grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head, Stiles’ hood falling down as he did so. “You’re going to do as I ask you, got it?” Stiles wanted to fight back but he knew he wasn’t strong enough and his fear overcame him, instead he nodded, the movement pulling at his hair even further. “I may have hurt you but I saved your life, you should be grateful.” Theo hissed his last words out. “From now on you’ll do what I want, without question.”

A wave of confidence passed over Stiles as he spoke. “And what if I don’t?” Theo’s grip on Stiles’ hair tightened and he sent his head into the steering wheel in reply. The impact blinded Stiles with pain, it wasn’t enough to knock him out but it sure hurt.

“I want you to stay away from Scott and his pack. From now on you’re a part of mine.”

Stiles hissed through the pain “You don’t own me.”

Theo rewarded his defiance by once again slamming his head into the steering wheel, but this time he did it more than once, only stopping when he spoke. “Sure I do. You just haven’t accepted it yet.” Theo’s harsh words bit into Stiles and he whimpered.

Theo released him from his hold and he sneered. “That’s what I thought.” The chimera let himself out of the jeep. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that he shut the car door, leaving Stiles bloody faced, alone, and scared out of his wits.


	11. Crimson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this update took so much longer than usual, I was away for a week on a school trip and have been busy catching up with work and studying. Anyway, here's another chapter, it's not as long as usual but I wanted to update as soon as possible so I wouldn't keep people waiting for too long.

Stiles found himself automatically driving home, his encounter with Theo had shaken him up so much that he’d forgotten about how his Dad still believed he was missing. He was reminded of this once he walked through the door and met his father’s eyes

He could tell that his Dad’s attention was on his visible injuries and was thankful that he had sleeves to cover his arms and that his only visible injuries were to his face. Before Stiles could say anything he was enveloped in a hug. It was strange, it felt like so long since someone had touched him without the intent of harming him.

Stiles buried his face into the sheriff’s shoulder and hugged him back, biting his lips and squeezing his eyes shut to stop himself from sobbing. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that but when his Dad pulled away he looked furious. “Who did this to you?”

Stiles blinked, he hadn’t thought about who he could pin it on so he just stuck with his usual half-truth. “The dread doctors.” Theo probably wouldn’t be too impressed if he began to tell people about what he’d done.

The sheriff’s eyes lit up with anger as he spoke. “Why would they do this to you?” Stiles chose not to answer this question and his father’s eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay? You don’t look like you’ve been to the hospital. Do you want me to take you there?”

Stiles dismissed the offer by shaking his head. “No it’s okay, nothing that can’t be fixed.” He shuffled on his feet, knowing what Theo had told his Dad. “I’ve got a load of work to catch up with for school so I should probably start it.”

 Stiles moved to go to his room but his Dad stopped him. “Hang on.” Stiles stopped dead in his tracks, knowing he couldn’t avoid the conversation any longer. “I need to talk to you.”

“About Donovan?” Stiles’ voice broke when he said the boy’s name and the sheriff fell silent.

“I was going to say I needed to talk to you about what happened in the past two weeks but if that’s what you want to talk about?” His Dad spoke softly, knowing it would be a sensitive subject.

Stiles took a deep breath in before recounting the story again. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He linked his fingers together, a nervous habit that stuck. “You know how angry Donovan was about everything to do with his Dad and the dread doctors turning him into a chimera didn’t exactly help.” Stiles looked from his hands to his Dad who stayed silent, urging him to tell the rest of the story. “My jeep broke down at school and I was fixing it when Donovan came up behind me. He grabbed me by the shoulder and I panicked and I had the wrench in my hand, so I hit him with it.” Stiles frowned, remembering the bloodied wrench that Scott found. “I managed to get him off of me long enough to run into the school but he came after me and followed me into the library and started to threaten me. I was hiding behind one of the shelves but he found me and chased me up this scaffold and had me by the foot and I knew he was going to kill me unless I stopped him.” Stiles eyes were sparkling with tears by now. “I noticed this pin holding the scaffold in place and I didn’t think, I just pulled it out and…” Stiles closed his eyes at the memory, forcing the rest out. “…the scaffold came down and went right through him.” Stiles stared at the floor, not wanting to see his Dad’s reaction. “I didn’t know what to do so I went back to the jeep and I called the police but I couldn’t bear it so I let them think it was a prank call. When I went back to the library the scaffold was back up and Donovan’s body was gone.” When Stiles finished he looked back up to his Dad, finding that he looked distraught. “I killed him Dad. And then I tried to hide it from everyone, _I_ killed him.”

The sheriff took a step towards Stiles and put his hand on his shoulder to comfort his son. “You didn’t kill him. The scaffold did.”

“You don’t understand, I wanted him dead.”

“Stiles, I know that you would never be able to do that. And you know it too.”

“But I did. I killed all of those people at the hospital. I killed Allison. I messed up, it shouldn’t have been them who died. Donovan shouldn’t have died, I should have just let him kill me. Then nobody would have died.” Stiles found his voice sounding detached, much like how Scott sounded back at the motel with the flare.

The sheriff gripped both of his shoulders then, trying to convince Stiles otherwise. “That was not you. None of that was you, you hear me?” Stiles nodded before being pulled into another hug. “You did everything you could to stop that from happening, I know that. So does Scott.”

 “Does Scott know you’re okay? He was really worried about you, had the whole pack helping to look for you.” Stiles suddenly felt heavy from the news, Scott was worried about him?

“Yeah he found me.” Stiles didn’t dare tell his Dad that Scott had found him days ago and kept it from him. The teen changed the subject, wanting to escape all of the questions without getting caught up in his lies. “I’ve probably got a load of stuff to catch up with school…” Stiles used the same excuse and started to make his way up the stairs and to his room. Before his Dad could ask, he turned back around and added “I’ve eaten so don’t worry about dinner for me.”

There were no more questions from his Dad that night so Stiles spent his time flicking through his textbooks and reading over what he’d missed in his different classes, not wanting to fall behind in class. He normally did well in tests despite all of the werewolf business but missing two weeks of work was something entirely different.

Without realizing it was in his hand, Stiles started scratching at his notebook with his pen, only noticing what he was doing when the pen snapped under the pressure, ink flooding onto his hands. With a noise of annoyance, Stiles made his way to the bathroom sink, scrubbing the black ink off of his hands. He became annoyed when he found that it wasn’t washing off like he had hoped and was staining his hands a black tint.

 He reached for the hand wash, hands fumbling as he squeezed the soap out to wash them again, his eyes met the red marks that his hands had left on the sink and soap bottle and he found himself staring down at his hands in shock, what he believed was ink was now blood. The crimson substance felt heavy on his hands and as he curled his fingers into fists he felt the stickiness of it as it dried and settled into his skin.

In shock, he raised his arms up to his head and held it out of instinct, only realizing what he had done when he peered into the bathroom mirror to find the blood had smudged from his hands onto his forehead now staining his face.

A whimper left his mouth when he wondered where the blood had come from, or rather who it had come from, and he stumbled out of the bathroom. A trail of red led him into the living room and his eyes rose slowly to find where the trail ended in a huge red puddle, his father’s body lying in the middle of the mess.

With a scream Stiles jumped up from his desk, pen still at hand and unbroken, and his hands clean. He gaped down at the textbooks he had fallen asleep on, squinting as the sun filled the room through his window.

He breathed in shakily as he realized he had been dreaming before looking at the clock in his room, noting that he had just enough time to get ready for school and that his Dad would have left for work by now.

Stiles picked up a blanket from the floor that had fallen from his shoulders when he woke up and smiled, knowing that the Sheriff was the one who put it there.

Pushing the nightmare to the back of his mind, he threw the blanket onto his bed and shuffled over to his cupboard, pulling out clothes and getting dressed before making his way to the bathroom and clumsily styling his hair.

 His hand found the back of his neck as he thought of getting a hoodie to hide the claw marks from Scott. Stiles knew he couldn’t pull the scarf look off like Isaac could so settled with pulling on his grey, striped hoodie, completely unaware of the last time he had worn it.

Sliding his textbooks off of his table and into his bag, Stiles left the house. Glad to find that Theo wasn’t waiting for him this time around, Stiles climbed into his jeep, throwing his backpack onto the passenger’s seat and pulling out of the driveway.

The engine stuttered a couple of times on the way to the school and Stiles worried that it would break down again but managed to make it to the school with his jeep in one piece.


End file.
